One Day With Lord Voldemort
by AnnTaylor87
Summary: My old parody take on Voldemort describing his average day full of unlimited power and incipient senility.


In the morning, usually around half past three, I wake up. It's a nightmare, because a man - a man, Voldemort! - doesn't get enough sleep and the day is ruined. Moreover, I heard sleep is important for nice and firm skin, well admit it, I won't keep it this way! Would it be possible for me to stand in front of Death Eathers with circles under my eyes and wrinkles one day? I'd be bound to kill anyone who saw me in such state to keep them silent. I know the lot, Peter Pettigrew for example is one bloody tattler. He babbled where to find Potters to me personally. Try to trust him after that.

So although I started to notice wrinkles, I don't feel old. Getting up is not what used to be anymore, however. You understand, gentlemen, the morning getting up is normal and a proof of functionality. On the other hand, sometimes I think whether the fact there's almost nothing to get up and function may play a role. Let's admit it, the resurrection could take a bit better turn. Flesh of servant… isn't Pettigrew a woman in disguise in the end?  
Snape told me once it may be because the age takes it's toll. I explained to him it's not appropriate to say such things and he didn't say a word since then. Perhaps because it's difficult to talk with mouth full of dirt and pressed with a marble plaque.

Well, so I'm out of my bed now. It's big and dark green. Nagini claims she likes the colour, but she's almost colour-blind, so I'm not sure what to believe.  
It is time for breakfast now, only you know, I mostly don't eat in the morning. It's said that breakfast is the best start of the new day. At least Dumbledore used to say so. But I won't listen to Dumbledore now. On top of it, one fresh Avada is much better start if you ask me. Just that has it's pitfalls. For example, I have no idea why, people don't like these pleasures. Mainly those I murder. Peculiar, right.  
After the breakfast, I usually think about what do we still need to tweak. I have to confess there's not much matters I can think of, but some of the Death Eathers come from time to time. I always just wish to throw them to Nagini at moments like this, but I let them to solve the problem by themselves eventually. They either succeed or cruciatus. Fairly elegant solution.  
Sadly, sometimes I do find the failing. I like to discuss it with Nagini, because my dear knows I won't kill her even in the utmost heat of passion, since she's my preciouss horcrux. Bitch. So she's not shy with frankness and audacity. Luckily I rule the world for a long time now, so there's not many failings.

Then there's usually the lunch. Honestly, mostly vile. I have not a single clue who cooks here. Perhaps few elves slouch around my manor or some enemy broke in and tries to poison me. It would quite match the taste. Or maybe Bellatrix is learning to cook. The woman seems nuts sometimes, you know. But don't tell her, she's such a tender soul, she'd surely kill a family of five in anger again.

The afternoons are reserved for meetings. Nagini loves them, she always slinks on the backrest of my chair, watches the Death Eaters and enjoys their fear. I admit I'm getting a little tired. All the same faces and one quaking incompetent lap dog beside the other. The more passionate Death Eather, the bigger imbecile. Except Bellatrix. She's capable. And cannine. Because it was me who taught her! But if I was supposed to teach every half-wit with with the dark mark how to hold a wand, I could grow a beard, wear glasses and go search for love stright away.  
Well and because nobody knows anything mostly, everybody fears who'd be the chosen one to do something. It reminds me the muggle school where the hag from orphanage sent me. Everybody looked like there's execution to be held when he was supposed to fulfill a task. But do I execute them?! I mean, only sometimes!  
But the meetings aren't long lately. It is the fact that we solved most of the issues and also the fact it's harder and harder to look at all their faces. Have you ever noticed what do they look like? I like to apply the saying that beauty searches for friends among gorgons. I naturally mean I'm the one who searches, but you surely understood. The only one who ever questioned my beauty, was Potter and we all know the little louse wore thick glasses.

Then all the naggers part. All of them are always in great hurry. I can't figure out the reason, do they dislike my place or perhaps they have reservations to… no, I washed my feet yesterday! Well in any case, once the meetings end, I'm alone with Nagini again.  
And terribly bored.  
So much that I actually wandered among muggles in disguise a few times. It was amusing to watch their gullibility and suddenly they were dead. Or make myself invisible and watch them flee with terror when you let yourself known. They are scum. They can't even summon a toothpick. It's necessary to recognize there's nothing to do with such material than to quickly exhaust it.

Once I even wandered into a building where many people flocked. There was the sign Cinema above the entrance and I've never been in a similar facility. After I got in, there were many seats and a big canvas. I soon realized the pictures taking turns on the canvas tell a story. A tale perhaps, because children were everyhwere. But I tell you, it was sick cool tale. There was this supreme villain and I truly liked him. He had some dumbledor-ish features like beard and robe and white hair, but his power was tremendous. And his servants were completely devoted goblins. Aye, it would be true achievement to train real goblins like that. Gringotts are all about treasures and loyalty doesn't bother them! But one part I didn't enjoy. It seemed this guy serves this big eye. I guess the eye was the main leader and held the power, but I couldn't take his side. It was just an eye. Sure, you can say it's great to be just a big eye witout any human limitations and possess the authority over the whole world, but it's not really relevant without a body and everybody just blows you off after a while. Trust me, I was less then a ghost for thirteen years, I know those varmints.  
Only believe me or not, the great villains were envetually defeated by one rascally dirty runt. So I got out of there fast, since he remained me of Potter. I didn't even kill the annoying shrimp crunching some white substance in front of my seat the whole time, so upset I was.  
Since then, I don't go to muggles. I let others to deal with them.

And so my evenings. They are often spent with Nagini. I read every so often, but it seems to me the letters in all books are insidiously shrinking. There's no other explanation that it's more and more difficult to see them.  
Then I push my boredom through to ten o'clock. Nagini retires soon, the exercise drains her. I'm not surprised, I wouldn't be able to crawl the whole day. And there's also supposed to be a supper around that time. I often pass. The same slops like the lunch. I sincerely think about buying Bellatrix a cookbook.

But the falling asleep.  
When I finally lie down in bed, I have to get up about ten times and go where even the master of magic must by himself. And I am the master of magic, am I not. Dolohov once thought it may be prostate problems, it's common in andvanced age he said. So I showed him what does prostate problem look like. He has no time to sit down now. But anyway, it's uncomforable. On the other hand, you'd think these journeys are tiring. Only fiddle-faddle! When it seems that I can finally sleep, I can't nod off no matter what.

And when I finally fall asleep, Potter chases me in my dreams with a huge box of chocolates and stabs me with a pin if I won't take a bonbon. I swear if he wasn't dead, I'd kill him. They are all CARAMEL!


End file.
